


Sleepless

by Moonspite



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 20:58:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3355058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonspite/pseuds/Moonspite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(After the events of the Act 2 quest: All That Remains) Hawke begins to experience nightmarish panic attacks. He visits Anders for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepless

Thirrin stopped just short of grasping the doorknob to his mother’s old room when he slowly withdrew his hand. He stared at it as though it lead into a tomb. Chastising himself for his foolishness, he quickly turned the handle and stepped inside before he could hesitate any longer.

It was all as she’d left it. The bed was neat, the wardrobe shut and full of her clothes, the book she had been reading set down on her bedside table. A fine layer of dust coated the surface of her furniture like frost. Everything was in a state of anticipation for her eventual return.

Slowly, he came into her room and eased himself down on the bed, the mattress sagging beneath him. He sat there a moment, the sound of his soft, rhythmic breathing almost deafening in the silence.

Peering around the room, his eyes were immediately drawn to the sight of the white lilies that had been brought to his mother weeks ago. The flowers were shriveled up and crinkled like old paper, their sickly-sweet,  _headache-inducing_ smell lingering behind with them.

Something began to stir within Thirrin once he saw them – it rooted him to the bed and tore at his chest. The stench of decay stuck to the back of his throat like mucus, sick and white. He was in Quentin’s lair again.

His mother sat there in her chair like a doll; dressed up in some kind of spider-web wedding gown that madman had fashioned for her, her eyes milky and glazed over. Thirrin could barely catch his breath.

Heart pounding, he grabbed hold of the nearest possible thing to anchor himself and inched forward. His bow was tense. He prepared to shoot.

With the next step he took, Thirrin lost his footing and collapsed onto the floor. He was in his mother’s room again and his body felt as if he’d just run from his High Town mansion to the harbor. A fleeting sense of relief filled the man as he struggled to his feet.

Running his hand down his sweat-slickened face, Thirrin gave himself a moment to collect his thoughts.  _Something_  had ripped him out of reality. Quentin’s look of morbid satisfaction was still fresh in his mind. A shudder ran through his body.

He knew what to do now.

———

Anders had poured himself into his work at the clinic that day. He was a healer, and thus, destined to be tired all the time. The end of the day was quickly approaching and the little makeshift hospital grew emptier. As soon as Anders saw Thirrin weave through the last of the Ferelden refugees leaving his clinic, he felt a brief rush of energy.

Offering the other man a weary smile, Anders waved him over. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise, Hawke – usually, I have to hunt you down myself.”

“Actually, I was hoping you could help me with something.” There was no sense in beating around the bush.

“What’s on your mind, then?”

Thirrin grew tense, pausing for a second. He stood there and debated internally just how to broach the subject.

“…What are the symptoms of a waking nightmare spell? How long do they last?”

Anders eyed the other man with concern.

“What brought this on?”

Thirrin gave him a look and then Anders sighed, and gave in.

“Let me see if I remember…naturally, there are hallucinations – as well as chills, heart palpitations, and trouble breathing.” He quickly added, “They can last anywhere from a few minutes to an hour or two – depending on how much power is put into the spell.”

“Alright, good.” Thirrin interrupted. “That being said, can it be cured?”

“It can’t – trust me, the best thing you can do for someone who’s been affected is to keep them out of harm’s way as long as you can.”

Before Thirrin could reply, Anders blurted out, “What’s going on, then? I doubt you’ve come to see me for a lesson on magic.”

“…You said the longest they’d last is just a few  _hours_?” He knit his brow in thought, and then shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Are you absolutely  _certain_?”

“Yes, but – wait.” Anders stopped, feeling as though he’d been dunked in ice-cold water. Suddenly, everything made sense. “Thirrin, this has gone on for a few  _weeks_  now, hasn’t it?”

“What are you going on about?”

Thirrin bristled, automatically ready to blow up at the other man if he so much as misspoke. He could accept words of comfort, but the insinuation that he needed to be coddled or protected made his blood boil.

“The – loss of your mother and the fight with that awful blood mage.” Anders said gently. “You think he cast a waking nightmare spell on you?”

Anders could hear the other man grinding his teeth in anger. He braced himself.

“…I think he must have cast  _something_.” Thirrin replied. “Because I keep – seeing it. It’s as though I’m thrown back into it – holding my mother, seeing that red gash across her throat – her eyes.”

Thirrin had to stop and catch his breath. Tears bit at the corners of his eyes – he wouldn’t blink. He cleared his throat, unable to meet Anders’s gaze.

“You can fix this. You can make it stop – I’m begging you _. I don’t want to see this, Anders_.” He croaked.

For all his knowledge and skill in the healing arts, Anders found himself feeling helpless. Seeing Thirrin, known for being the scariest man in Kirkwall, so hopeless and miserable, crushed him.

Drawing in a deep breath, Anders shook his head. “…I can’t. Thirrin, there’s nothing magical or medicinal, or – Thirrin, I’m so sorry. “

“So that’s it, then? I’m  _broken_?” His voice shook. Thirrin sounded like a man who had been sentenced to die.

“No! No, you’re not – you can overcome this. Listen to me.” Anders knew what he said next was incredibly important. “Thirrin, you’ve had so  _much_  trauma heaped on you these past few years – I can’t even imagine how much terrible shit – but, you’ve been able to overcome it. You’re far from broken, love. I have no doubt you’ll be able to make it through this.”

Sniffling, Thirrin gave him a tiny smile. “…Thank you.”

Before Anders could respond, he threw his arms around the other man and squeezed him tight. Anders held Thirrin to him and shut his eyes, resting his chin on the other man’s head.

“I can’t heal you. But I _can_ support you through this.”

“That’s all I ask.”


End file.
